


Thoughts, Tangled and Braided

by VulpusTumultum



Series: The Tevinter's Templar [10]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpusTumultum/pseuds/VulpusTumultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While everyone is getting ready for the Winter Palace, Cole overhears at least some of why Lyos tends to not fuss with his hair, and things get a little awkward- though Dorian turns out to be better than the Compassion spirit at helping his rather new Amatus.</p>
<p>Spiky banter, friendly insults, hiding actual feelings behind masks is something Cole doesn't quite understand, but it's a language Dorian and Lyos speak rather fluently with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts, Tangled and Braided

**Author's Note:**

> The Empress' Ball occured while they were still fairly new lovers, timeline-wise- likely intersecting a bit with "Wagging Tongues"

Dorian heard Leliana and Josephine both amusedly and exasperatedly assuring someone they looked _fine_  and could  _not_  wear armor to a ball, and rather assumed it was being directed at the Knight Commander as he was entering the private dining room the Inquisition was using as a meeting space in this inn not too far from Halamshiral.

Except that Cullen was not in the room, much less being the center of attention, and instead he found himself staring a little more than he’d intended to at the Inquisitor himself.

Of course he was in one of the militaristic-yet-fashionable-by-Orlais-standards-apparently outfits, and honestly Dorian would have chosen some color other than that shade of red. Something darker at the least, that would go better with Lyos’ serious demeanor, to say nothing of bringing out eyes and hair. And rather than the textile or tailoring choices, what the mage found himself far more fascinated by was-

“Inquisitor, I’m shocked. You actually  _do_  know how to do something with your hair? Or did one of our ladies take over?”

_That_  earned him a rather dark look from the Herald, but before he began to worry that his teasing observation had been too badly timed or said, there was a faint twitch up to a corner of Lyos’ mouth.

“Oh no, I’m entirely to blame for it, and for however scandalously elven, or generally out of fashion it is. But all that was said to me originally was that I couldn’t get away with looking like a sheepdog.”

“Well, my Dear, the phrasing got your attention, and acceptable results,” Vivienne raised a brow slightly from where she was off to the side in her very pointedly not-a-uniform-in-any-way gown, which did at least make the concession of matching the Inquisition colors. “But I do agree with you, Inquisitor, the usual styles would not suit you or your unique position.”

Lyos shrugged, and of course seemed entirely uninterested further in discussion of it, not that Dorian particularly wanted to  _discuss_  it. Perhaps make a few more comments for amusement’s sake.

And it certainly wouldn’t be seen as fashion, the tight braids pulled back from temples so that for once there wasn’t hair fluffing into grey eyes. To be honest, he’d hardly have thought that the warrior’s hair was long enough to braid like that, although it was true that there was a subtle waviness to it at any time, and it did rather stretch when straightened with fingers run through it or-

“Fingers pulling through and a tight tug, overly rough, swearing swatting, but smiling,” Cole was there, and for a moment, Dorian had a disconcerting moment of thinking  _his_  thoughts were being heard, with the direction they’d been traveling, his fingers having begun itching slightly for some excuse to actively get into that pale hair.

But as the spirit went on, before he or Lyos could object, it proved not to be the case, if still an awkward thing to suddenly find oneself eavesdropping on.

“She braided and you braided at each other’s backs. You only cared that it was not in your eyes. But she wanted braids and wouldn’t ask, so you traded until she was gone away. After it was always in your eyes. Seeing through it was easier than seeing her in reflections. But sometimes you do still feel she’s not  _gone_.”

Lyos pinched the bridge of his nose, “Cole, enough about that for now,” he glanced to the others in the room, and gave a half shrug, likely reading the inevitable curiosity along with the slight embarrassed or uneasy looks. Dorian feeling a little certain the look had stayed on  _him_  a bit longer. But then, that was rather vain of him to think, as clearly the world did  _not_  in fact revolve around him or that he found the Inquisitor so fascinating on various levels.

“I had a sister, but it’s been a long time, and having to do the fancy hair for a night is hardly causing me any actual distress. It’s far more that I don’t feel a need to spend the time on fussing or see it as a way to try and impress anyone.” Lavellan  _did_ , this time, glance at Dorian deliberately, and there was the glint of rather pointedly wicked amusement in his eyes. It rather ruined his otherwise deadpan delivery, but the mage couldn’t help but rise to that bait anyway.

_Something to get him past that moment, give him something to respond to so he’s amused even if he barely smiles._

”Are you sure it’s not simply that your eyes give you away when actually visible? For playing the Game, the sheepdog look may work out better after all.”

Lyos actually chuckled, turning to lead the way out, “I’ll have to remember that argument for next time something like this comes up.”

“Could be cruel or cutting, but all that’s cut away is some hurt, a distracting warmth, reassurance. _Well as long as he’s still having fun._ It’s kindness but the things said aren’t kind. Hiding feelings but you both see them. How does it work?” Cole looked at Dorian in puzzlement.

“One of many things I believe I would need much longer to think about, and perhaps a good bottle of wine to even  _attempt_  to answer, Cole.”

“You’re all tight and warm inside, you like it but don’t, and you thought it was your thoughts to have fingers in his hair.”

“Right, we are supposed to be following, aren’t we? Perhaps you can find some other people to help or try and figure out, although knowing what I do of get-togethers like this little dance, you may wind up the one needing help for a headache.”


End file.
